


The Saga: Judith Hopps, Robin Hood, Police Bunny

by Momma



Category: Robin Hood (1973), Zootopia (2016), possibly more - Fandom
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, do not repost to another site
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2020-07-09 00:51:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19878892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momma/pseuds/Momma
Summary: Once upon a time, Robin Hood fought for the underprivileged. Now, Judy Hopps steps up to the plate in an even more unconventional manner.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Should I be posting another fic? No. Am I anyway? Yes. Yes, I am. 
> 
> ... 
> 
> I have zero self-control when my brain goes on a tangent.

CHAPTER ONE:

Judy was three and tired and she couldn’t sleep. So here she was with Mr. Biggles poking at her older brother Briar near eleven at night and getting a grumpy one-eyed stare. “What,” he groused, not even a question. “Judith, go back to sleep.”    
  
“I want to,” she almost whimpered because she was so very tired. “But I has ta sleep before I can go back.”    
  
Briar, looked at her a moment longer before sighing. Sitting up, the young brown buck patted his bed even as he turned on a small book lamp on the shelf carved into the earthen wall. There were books stacked and settled on the shelf, all studies, mostly historical, but each an interest to the kit. Judy didn’t waste long scrambling into the bed, her purple, footed onesie making her appear even younger than her dear three years. She would get to pick her own clothes at five, though! It would be so exciting!    
  
Briar pondered his books, knowing even dry facts wouldn’t be enough for this particular kit. So, he plucked a history volume of the Olde World, words in curling golden filigree adorning the front of the hardbound book. Flicking through to the Lionheart section of Furopa history, he cleared his throat gently.    
  
{* _...it was at this time that great unrest was broiling across the land of the grand predator King Robert’s domain. He was missing, his brother was showing himself to be cruel and wasteful, and animals of all kinds were being unfairly taxed. It was at this time that rumors of a Robber in a Hood came to be. Robin Hood to be exact. _ *}    
  
Okay, so it wasn’t word for word from the history book, but Judy was sitting with rapt attention and a twitching nose. Keeping kits interested was more important sometimes than historical accuracy. So, Briar wove a tale of a rogue fox lord unfairly stripped of his lands and title after his suspicious capture, of the king in the hands of his enemies, of daring to go against a terrible lion prince who looked covetously at the lovely Maid Marian, of giving back to the poor and the unwanted citizens. The tale grew into the night, a small bunny barely daring to look away as her brother became a bard and spoke the sonnets of myth.    
  
His voice quieted as he cuddled her close, book back on the shelf, as he spoke reverently about William “Billy” Skippy, their many times great grandfather from the Olde World. Skippy had been their mother’s maiden name with them directly descended from his line. All of Bunnyburrow could claim family lineage, too, and little Judy fell asleep to the words of Briar describing Williams’s prowess with a bow. 

٩( 'ω' )و

  
At four, Judy had begged and pleaded enough to be taught to read. The first book she read cover to cover was Olde World with peeling filigree letters and tatty corners of thick hand woven linen. She hadn’t understood everything, but she understood enough—sometimes people in power were the Bad Guys. Sometimes, the crook was less crooked than the law.    
  
She would read it again at five, then at six, seven, and eight. Bookmarks would appear and little highlighter colored tags would be applied since she would not deface her book. She would take notes and secure the Fox, Bear, and Lion version of the stories therein and learn them by heart before she even reached double digits. But, for now, she is four-almost-five despite her birthday being almost eight months away, and she wants two things: a green Robin Hood costume and a bow.    
  
And not the kind of bow one wears. She wanted a longbow. Light and hand carved and strung with threads tough enough to handle her determination. She wanted a quiver her size and arrows that flew true with red and blue fletching just like in her books. She wanted to be both Robin Hood and his right paw bunny Skippy.    
  
“Not yet, Jude the Dude,” her father tenderly denied. “When you’re a bit older, okay? I’ll even ask ol’ Mister Surshot.”    
  
The bunny buck shivered at the thought of being near the older mammal with the distinct Red Fox coloring. The only thing marring his coat were the heterochromatic white patches that dribbled drunkenly from his left ear to his left eye and down his back almost like a fawn’s coat. Still, if Stuart’s little Jude the Dude wanted to learn, he would let her. But only when she was older.    
  
She did get her Robin Hood costume, a quick put together thing that she ended up loving despite how cheaply made it was. That Hallow’s Eve Celebration, instead of being a monstrous Predator to scare off all the scary bad things, she was an archer with a bycocket unadorned.    
  
She hadn’t earned her plume, after all. 

٩( 'ω' )و 

  
By the time she was six, Judy had learned to sew, climb a tree, and slingshot cherries from their spindly stems into baskets with pebbles. The Red Fox Mister Surshot had to leave town for a while and came back a little over three months later with a sad face. Despite warnings to the contrary, Judy thought this suspicious—but mainly sad since the only other foxes in Bunnyburrow were the Greys and they were very... unwelcoming. Especially Gideon, the boy being mean to everyone and even pushing mammals down!    
  
So that was why Judy was at the door to Mister Surshot on a Sunday evening with a pheasant and two crows in paw. The crows were larger than she was by almost twice and the pheasant was even bigger than them, her small paws wrapped around the twine tied to their legs so she could drag them—no need to waste, after all, and Mister Surshot ate meat. “Knock knock, Mister Surshot!”    
  
Ears perked, she heard when a mammal moved in the interior, coming closer softly, steps near indistinguishable to the breeze rustling the large raspberry bushes at the front door. She didn’t even shiver at the smell of predator, instead smiling wide when a graying snout peered around the door. “Hi! I’m Judy! I killed the crows and pheasant that were eating Mama’s fruit!” She jerked on the twine making the bodies flinch on the ground. “So I thought you might like to eat the meat!”    
  
The old fox stared for a moment before a small sound escaped him. His cheeks puffed out and his eyes slitted closed, a paw coming to his maw. His shoulders shook and his belly flinched and Judy was very concerned. “You okay, Mister Surshot?”    
  
That was the last straw for Mister Surshot, the fox leaning over as he started guffawing, paws to knees to hold him up. Judy at a precocious six was mortally offended at such a reaction. She had gotten three clear headshots and had saved her mother’s blueberries. The crows were larger than average and the pheasant was unusual, but she did a good job! Tiny paws on tiny hips, she stood as tall as she could and didn’t even reach his knees. “That’s not nice! You’re not s’pposed’ta laugh!” She glowered (pouted) at the fox until she felt her lip wobble. You weren’t supposed to laugh. It was mean. You’re supposed to say you’re sorry when you were mean. Mister Surshot just kept laughing instead. “But... but I did good..”    
  
She dropped her twine lead, ears flopping down her back as she started to run, little choked whimpers that wanted to be sobs caught in her throat and made her slow down. Dark furred arms plucked her up, one large paw going under her tail, the other pressing her face into a white chest as a low thrumming sound hummed through the ribs. It was the fox, the sharp musk of tod fox warm and oddly comforting. “Oh, little one,” he crooned, Olde World accent curling his words in strange ways for the little bunny. “I wasn’t laughing at you. You surprised me, made me happy.”    
  
Judy sniffled, curling deeper into the warm embrace, the long limbs making her feel itty bitty and safe. “You laughed and didn’t say why.”    
  
The accusing tone had the tod chuckling, brushing one long fingered paw down her back. “Ah, I did, didn’t I?” He turned them around, toting the small bunny. “Well, that was rude of me.”    
  
Judy laid with her head on his fur, uncaring that the old tod’s shirt was splayed open. At six, fur-to-fur snuggles were what it was all about. “It was,” she hiccuped. “Why do you talk so funny?”    
  
The fox chuckled, plucking up the twine of the fowl before walking into his home. “I’m not from here, little bunny.”    
  
“Where are you from?”    
  
“Why should I tell you, little bunny?”    
  
“Because I asked,” she retorted, leaning back to dig tiny digits into thick white ruff. “And it’s polite to answer a question.”    
  
The fox couldn’t stop grinning over her head. For all that she was barely larger than his hands combined, the wee bairn more than made up for it with personality. “Well, then,” he uttered fondly. “I should be polite for this little bunny-“   
  
“Judy!”    
  
“-and tell her about where I live.” There was a moment of quiet as the small bunny looked up at him, ears shooting up at attention. Lady Marian, but she was stealing his heart. “I am from Furope, little bunny Judy. I would say one place, but I have traveled much of my homeland and her neighbors.”    
  
Her eyes were bright. “Does that mean you have a book ‘bout Robin?!” she squeaked excitedly. “The Bunny Book of History doesn’t have lots of Mister Robin but it does have lots on Great Grandpa Skippy!”    
  
Well, there was a name he wasn’t expecting from a kit, much less a bunny kit. “... I wasn’t expecting you to know that name, little bunny,” the fox murmured. “But yes. I have many books on my many times Great Grandfather as well.”    
  
Little Judy bounced in his arms as she gripped his fur. “Can we read it?!”    
  
Laughing warmly, the Fox tugged on the top of her ear. “Of course.” 

“Mister Surshot,” Judy asked sometime later, snuggled in his lap with a tome of a history book settled in beside her.    
  
“What is it, little Judy?” 

She hesitated before visibly bolstering herself. “Why were you so sad?” 

One green eye slit open, staring at the small baby bunny that was happy to lay all over him without fear. It was a wonder for the ages. But she had asked a question and it was only polite to answer it. “That is a very long answer, little bunny.” 

Judy didn’t blink. “We have time. It isn’t dark yet.” 

Letting out a long breath, the fox tod leaned forward to hold Judy to his chest. “My sister’s son has done something reckless and stupid. I was trying to help but he doesn’t want it.” 

Judy pondered this for a moment before looking up at him. “That’s stupid. Everyone needs help sometimes.” 

The fox just smiled. “Of course they do, little bunny, but try telling a teenager that.” 

“When I grow up,” started the kit after a few seconds, “I’m not gonna be a teenager at all! They sound rude!” 

The tod laughed until he couldn’t make a sound, tears coming to his eyes. This little ball of fluff! 

Robert William Loxley-Surshot walked Judy home, the baby bunny going a mile a minute as she talked about her mother and father and fruit pies and her slingshot. He listened diligently as she prattled on about her dream of being a cop, but also being like Robin Hood and Skippy and of course Little John. She spoke of her bycocket and it’s naked state since she hadn’t earned her plume yet, but she was going to, just wait and see, Mister Surshot. He wondered how wide her violet little eyes would get if he told her he was a Loxley, but changed his name for a time of rest. 

He wondered how big her hugs would be if she knew why he was here at all. 

As a fox, life had been interesting and cruel to him, even in the Olde World. Sure, his elder brother was Lord Loxley and, by and far, nobility was treated well no matter the species, but there were still hate crimes. His wife and kits were proof of that. 

“Mister Surshot-“ 

“Robin, please.” 

“-Mister Robin, why are you all sad again?” She swung their clasped hands, looking up at him with curiosity and an eagerness to help. By Maid Marian Herself, he thought, this kit was going to break hearts. 

He smiled softly at the small gray kit, watching her large violet eyes follow his own even as her big ears concentrated on where they were going. Something like love curled in his ribs and it was terrifying and exhilarating. “I was thinking of why I was here, little bunny.” 

She tilted her head as she looked at the path again, a large White house backed into a hill coming into view. “If it makes you sad, maybe you need to think of something else.” She looked up again. “When I’m sad or lonely, I think of being Robin or Skippy and saving Bunnyburrow or Zootopia! Or, or, or, oh, of helping everybody have a better life! No matter what!” 

Robert tilted his head as the little bunny bounced off the end of his paw. “How do you get lonely in a bunny house?” 

Judy quieted suddenly, slowing down her hyper hopping. “Be dif’rent,” she whispered. “My sisters think of marry-in’ gross boys and having a bunch of kits in warrens like Ma’s and Papa’s, but I want to protect people more.” 

And wasn’t that just heartbreaking. Swooping in to scoop the kit up, he tossed her high in the air to her glee. “Well, now, little bunny, I think wanting to protect people is an admirable future profession.” 

She snuggled into his neck before she looked up. “... What’s a pro-fish-on?” 

Robert chuckled, poking her nose just to see it wiggle. “Pro-fesh-un, little bunny. It is like a job or a career. Do you know what those are?” Judy nodded her head, playing with the thick fur of the fox carrying her. Honestly, the tod didn’t mind in the least, his heart healing just a little. Who would have thought that a bunny kit felt safe enough with him to smile and be sweet? Not he. Taking a deep breath and inhaling that baby scent all children under a certain age carried, he stepped up the stairs and to the almost too short door. Knocking, he tickled Judy just a bit. “Try and make sure your mother doesn’t eat me, little bunny.” 

Judy giggled. “Ma won’t eat you, Mister Robin! Ma doesn’t eat meat!” 

Robert huffed a low laugh, looking at the door when it opened and a svelte doe with Judy’s eyes peered out. A drying towel was in her paws, an apron obviously just removed with a bit of flour on one cheek. She was lovely and absolutely terrifying once she spotted her kit in his arms. The tod was many things—fortunately stupid was not one of them and he quickly set the kit down only for her to be swept up by the doe. 

“Judith! Where have you been?! And you!” She rounded on the fox. “Were you taking advantage of my daughter?!” 

This must happen often since Judy just huffed, poking her mother. “Ma! Mister Robin is a nice fox! He helped me read his big book and told me stories! And he walked me home!” 

The gray doe turned her ears to her kit without looking from the perceived threat. “Oh, did he?” 

Robert cleared his throat. “Pardon the intrusion, madame. Your lovely kit showed up today with some fowl she downed in the garden before they could eat your blueberries and expressed wanting them to go to good use.” He smiled at the rosy ears of the baby bunny on her mother’s hip. “She is a wonderfully intelligent babe and I do hope she can come by again. She is very polite and absolutely charming, as you most likely know.” 

The doe seemed to pink in the ears too, her posture relaxing as she held out a paw. “Bonnie Hopps-nee-Skippy.” 

“Robert Surshot at yours, Madame Hopps,” he murmured over her paw, brushing his nose across the fur. 

Bonnie blushed clear up her ears at the gallant gesture, giggling a moment before clearing her throat. “Please, come in. I’ll make some lemonade and have the older kits go find their father.” 

Well, Robert thought as he stepped through the almost too short door. I’m still breathing. The rest should be simple enough.    



	2. Chapter 2

The rest was not ‘simple enough’ at all. Apparently, Stuart Hopps (call me Stu) had promised his precocious kit that he would ask the fox to teach her how to use a bow—which he could. Robert just wasn’t sure he should. A bitty bunny like Judy learning to use a bow... it was actually terrifying. “Your daughter is currently proficient with a slingshot to a degree most adults trained cannot accomplish,” the fox stated calmly, barely twitching when Judy climbed into his lap and snuggled up. “And I am frankly worried about my hide being made into Swiss Cheese by proxy of an Oops.” 

Bonnie put a paw to her muzzle, giggling even as Stu snorted carrot juice out of his nose in amusement. Handing the buck a tissue from the counter, the tod continued. “She will have to up her strength before I could decide with a clear conscience to teach her anything with such a dangerous weapon.” 

In the twenty minutes since Stu had made his way back to his home, he had fainted twice upon seeing Robert, been revived by his wife with water and his daughter with a cookie shoved into his mouth respectively, and had finally introduced himself and requested lessons. If nothing else, the buck tried to get things done quickly. 

Stu opened his mouth as if to protest. Robert held up his paw to stall the buck. “She is still very young. I...” he looked to the kit in his lap. “How old are you, little bunny?” 

Judy tipped her head back, baby paws braiding longer sections of ruff at his neck. “I’m six!” she declared proudly. “And I’m going to be seven soon!” 

“You just turned six,” Bonnie remarked as she stood from the stool she had been settled on. Checking her watch, she hummed. “I have to finish supper. If you’ll excuse me.” 

Stu watched his wife go, eyes too low to be appropriate, but even the tod could understand. Bonnie was a lovely lady. Still. This tiny, fits-in-both-paws kit was six. A good healthy age to pick up a bow with supervision. Dear Maid Marian, how did bunnies cope with such small offspring? She was six. She fit in his paws. Nicholas at six had been up to his waist and so much heavier. It was like comparing a dinner roll to a sack of flour. Well, to him. 

The image of Bonnie with her kit on her hip suddenly stopped him. Because Bonnie was a mature doe. And her kit had hung off her, a little too big to be held in such a position. Robert had always known he was a bit large for his species—a lot of the Olde World foxes were larger than average, something about Gigantism—but this was ridiculous. Maybe he was just used to the giant rabbits and hares? He didn’t know, but seeing tiny, ready-to-go Judy just about killed him. His heart couldn’t take this. He was going to pass from sheer worry (and no small amount of terror) where this small doe was concerned. Death by concern. Poetic. 

The big violet eyes looking up at him, pleading, were all it took, though. If he hadn’t spent the day with her, hadn’t seen her proficiency with a slingshot, he would decline and that would be the end of it. Now... 

“We will start this weekend. I have to set up something.” He cuddled the kit. “One does not simply shoot a bow, little bunny.” 

Judy cheered even as Stu near fainted at seeing such a ferocious fox holding his child so gently. Would wonders never cease. 

Three days was hardly enough time to set anything up. Robert still managed. She wanted to be a Robin “Goodfellow” Hood? Well, she was going to learn from the bottom up. 

“Today, little bunny,” he intoned to his small audience of one. “You are going to learn balance. Until you can dance across this rope, we won’t move on.” 

There was a thin rope barely as thick as his smallest finger strung tight between two posts little more than knee high from the ground. His knee high, not a bunny’s. He smirked at her wide-eyed look of shock before determination settled in. This little bunny was a trooper. “Let me demonstrate.” 

And demonstrate he did. Dancing, jumping, twisting across the rope as if it were second nature. Judy stood slack jawed and enthused. She was going to learn that! Bowing to applause once he was finished, the tod helped her get up to the rope. “Alright, little bunny. Time to learn balance.” 

It didn’t quite go as little Judy thought it would. But... her joy when she was dropped off at home dusty and a bit bruised was infectious and the tod breathed out a sigh of relief. Any mother was a terrifying creature no matter the species and he left with his fur. So, good things all around. 

“See you tomorrow, little Judy.” 

This went on for months. Judy learned to wobble, then run, then dance across the rope. She learned to drop and swing and twist, her little arms shaking at first before firming up with muscle. Then she learned to fight. To dodge and jump and confuse. Robert had never seen a kit work so hard before. 

In that time she had grown. Not much, but clearly more than expected if her mother was any indication. “Eats like a horse now,” she commented. “Always seems to be empty!” 

He would have felt guilty, did for a while, until Bonnie casually handed out some information. “Bunnies hit growth spurts randomly. We have a few Flemish relatives in the line. I’ve a brother who is almost as tall as you.” She then patted his paw and set a raspberry cake before him. “Have some cake dear. You’re too thin.” 

Rope walking merged into a series of agility and upper body strengthening exercises that were games of tag that, honestly, the tod wasn’t fit enough to participate in. Judy needed some playmates. 

“Have any other of your kits expressed a desire to follow Judy’s paw prints?” he asked one afternoon over lemonade and tofu tarts. “To be entirely honest, Madame Bonnie, I am far too old to properly play the games I have set up.” 

Bonnie giggled, nibbling on a blueberry tart as she watched Judy out race her siblings. “I believe one or two would be amenable to working with you.” 

Robert sighed in relief, Bonnie out right laughing as Stu came up behind her to wrap his arms around her shoulders. The doe winked at the tod as she called the kits in for a snack. With her waist showing her progressing pregnancy, she was eating enough for both her buck husband and the Olde World fox. With her constantly baking and cooking, there was little that she didn’t have available to feed her children already set out on the counters. When all the kits were sat, Bonnie made an announcement that the Sweet Mister Robert (“Robin, Madame Bonnie, please.”) was looking for another kit to train with Judy. Instantly several dozen paws went high and the tod groaned. 

Just what had he done to himself? 

Judy turned seven and it confused the tod how she barely acknowledged the grand occasion. She was still gleeful to receive her gift from Robert, at least, and had hugged his leg tight before running home. “Forgive me, Madame Bonnie. I seem to have caused a break in tradition with my gift.” 

It had been, really, a simple matter to get his brother to send one of the authenticated costumes said to be worn by the Merry Animals from the Green Wood Festival. It had not been so simple to get one of the O’Hares or a Skippy or a Skippison to send a proper bycocket feather. That had required pictures (Madame Bonnie was a saint, he would so swear) and an abundance of things that he had not anticipated. And he still had to teach little bunny Judy archery so she could have a feather. 

Cruel creatures. 

He also had near half a warren begging to learn. So far, the ones that were persistent were all in the field wobbling on ropes like Judy had at first. More than half had sobbed and given up within the first week. A steady trickle came and went. The elder bunnies would make time to do it for the exercise most often, staring as Judy leaped from one strung up rope to another without faltering and then double down. Some of the youngest, surprises of surprises, idolized Judy enough to keep going. A majority were male and entirely too competitive, honestly. His brother had muzzle-timed him on Swype after seeing one of the videos he had sent, laughing so hard he couldn’t stay in the frame. 

“It was entirely by accident on my part and fully on purpose of Madame Bonnie,” he had explained once his brother had stopped trying to die by laughing. 

Thankfully, Judy was getting large enough to do some of the more acrobatic parts of training. Like tree hopping and vine swinging. “We could do tire runs for agility and chin-ups instead, but this will be more entertaining,” he had said. Bonnie had given him a stare and he had to say that if he ever admitted little bunny Judy to the hospital, her mother may very well have his pelt tacked to her door in warning. “Besides, she is getting... bored.” 

Which made them both shudder. Judy was a force to be reckoned with when driven, but becoming bored? That was when things went pear-shaped for all involved. 

Bonnie, trying hard to keep her calm, allowed him to start adding higher, more dangerous antics to their training. This was, of course, between school and farm duties. Judy still had her acre to weed and care for, just like all of her siblings five and older. The eldest litter with eleven kits was now thirteen and more than capable of helping their father on the machinery which meant little bunny Judy didn’t have to hoe her acre since one of her siblings would run the small tiller between the rows of corn and strawberries. 

He had held her close when his little bunny had confessed she didn’t ever want to be a farmer—it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. And had felt so guilty over it. He had held her tight and tender, heart cracking for her more out of sorrow of her possibly giving up her dreams. He shouldn’t have worried so much. 

“When I get big like you,” she started, “I’m going to be like Robin Hood. I’ll help the weak, the poor, the forgotten.” She leaned back to look at her favorite fox. “And if I have to be a police officer to do that, then I will! Because stealing isn’t nice, but sometimes the bad guys are the ones who are supposed to be the good guys and they take what isn’t theirs. And I will get it back!” 

It had been an adventure when Judy understood what Robin Hood had been doing, stealing from others just to give it away, but taking what was not his all the same. It meant explaining governments and corruption and bad people in powerful positions. She had understood it on some level already, but now she could grasp the entire idea fully—as much as a seven year old could. And now? Well, she wanted to see law books, read police procedures, compare laws of nearly six hundred years ago to present day. Little genius bunnies would be the death of him. 

But at least he knew what to get her for her birthday. 

Bonnie had come to him, confused and worried. “She’s made friends with a Panther boy,” she started. “And a Leopard and a Bear.” 

Until now, Judy hadn’t seemed to make friends with many of her bunny, rabbit, or hare classmates. Only one or two of the more adventurous does and bucks seemed to be able to keep up with her—barely. Then again, most of the predators seemed drawn to her vivacious personality, her forthright dealings with them, and conscious effort to be kind and supportive. That she didn’t mind them eating meat was a cherry on top of a very large Sundae. 

It was too odd for most prey mammals. It was so very appreciated by pred mammals. And, wonder of wonders, Judy had a massive growth spurt, almost to the tod’s waist if one counted the ears, and was only half the size of her pred classmates instead of a third. That would change soon as they hit their own growths, but for now, it was easy to make friends with them. 

The bear cub was an Asian Sunbear, a smaller breed of bear than the usual Grizzly or Black Bear, and fascinated with Judy, bunnies in general, and long ears in particular. Name of Daichi, only cub with siblings on the way, and in love with pie. He liked talking to Judy and bribing her for carrot cake and fruit tarts. The Leopard and Panther were fraternal twins, Kellan and Jabari respectively, and loved music and icon imagery and small cuddly things. They constantly wanted to hold and hug and snuggle with the bunny. 

Judy was not partial to being a cuddle buddy. Or having her ears touched. At least, not by them. 

This, of course, was of no issue until one day Bonnie went into labor, half the elder siblings out in the fields, the other half in the kitchen, and Stu a mess on the floor. Again. “Do me a favor? Pick up the kits?” Which, there were only about twenty kits in morning classes, the elder in the afternoon classes, and usually they would seamlessly switch, but for the next day or two, the eldest kits had to take over the warren until Bonnie was back. “We’ll be back soon enough.” 

So, the tod picked up the kits in Bonnie’s place. He grinned a little too sharp when Judy launched herself from a fox length away to land easily within his arms, pressing her face close as she hugged her fox uncle. The rest clamored around him as he stroked one large hand down her ears, the light weight of her body finally having some substance. “Come on, kits,” he called readily despite the sea of incredulous and scandalized gazes. “Madame Bonnie is at the hospital as we speak. Your brothers and sisters are fixing a salad and some leek soup and I know you are all hungry. Come on. Quickly now.” 

The small cheers of “finally!” and “kits!” had him smiling softly as he lead their merry fluffle from the school grounds. “Ah-ah! Remember! Straight to your parents’ warren, you two, three, five miscreants! Or no blueberry bubble for you.” He chuckled at the giggles in his neck. “Your siblings are very rambunctious, little bunny. I swear, there were only two that would go wandering off... and now there are five! Your poor mother.” 

And all through this, he cuddled and petted his sweet little bunny Judy where everyone could see. The touch was nothing inappropriate and even spoke of familiarity. From a fox! 

The two big cat cubs and bear cub shared a look as they stood by their astonished parents. A pred? Caring for prey kits?! That was so weird! Bunnyburrow was a little country podunk town! Who knew that some bunnies were so progressive? Sure, Judy hung with them and even played “catch the bunny” with them at recess, but this was something else. 

That fox with an Olde World accent was treated with trust, was treated like family. Was allowed with kits. What a scandal indeed. Of course, this wouldn’t just blow over and the youngest school-aged Hopps kits experienced a new sensation at school the next few months: celebrity status. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Discord](https://discord.gg/4dCN72X) is my other home. I whine on there about writing and and cry about characters going off half-cocked without direction.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets Big Sad and maybe should have Trigger Warnings, but I’m not sure which apply.
> 
> This is a bday prezzie to myself, and it is six days late, whoops.

Bonnie was back within the time she spoke of, three kits in her arms. Stu was shaky and held up by two of his oldest kits even as they snickered to each other. To be real honest, most kits took after the steel nerves of their mother and the tod was grateful. He wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t follow Stu because these newborn kits, when shown to him, were  _ tiny puffs of fluff. _ All three could fit in his paw. 

“Oh my goodness,” he muttered in a faint voice, stumbling to a corner of the living room and sitting down. Heart in his throat, he couldn’t even comprehend how small the bunny kits were. “They’re marbles. Soft, fluffy  _ marbles _ …” 

Bonnie just laughed at him as Stu was deposited beside him, handing the kits to the tod. “Watch them, hm? I’ll be but a minute.” 

And that was how Robin came to be holding three tiny  _ newborn _ bunny kits and being swarmed by  _ older _ bunny kits with no concept of personal space. For close to an hour. Judy eventually warded off her siblings enough to gently take the three kits from his paws to hand to an older sibling and then sooth the fox. 

“Ma was trying to be nice, lettin’ you hold the kits. She forgets how you get,” the only sane rabbit in the warren explained even as one of her elder brothers shooed off the oldest kits to the farm and the youngest to snack. 

The tod covered his face. “Judith, you don’t understand. They’re so  _ small, _ how do I keep them from being hurt? By me? By accident?” 

Judy just patted his big paw, one still large enough to cover her entire skull with room left over. “It’s okay, Mister Surshot. This little bunny will keep away the even smaller bunnies.” 

The two shared a look before laughing at each other. 

That week, Judy came to him, tears in her fur and little paws in fists. She crawled up his back as he went about collecting some herbs for his dinner, valiantly not tucking her in his ruff to soothe. She would choose how she wanted to be cared for. 

“My friends…” she hesitated. “The twins and Daichi think that because I let you hug me and pet my ears, they should be allowed to, too.” Her voice got soft, eyes down. “Even if I don’t want them to.” 

Ah. Consent. And the lack thereof. Entitlement too, most likely. He would have to talk to Bonnie and Stu later. “I’m sorry, little bunny. How can I help?” 

She wrapped her tiny arms around his neck as far as she could and pressed her face into his shoulder. “I don’t know. I just wanted friends and now they’re being  _ stupid meanie heads _ !” 

Yes, he would be talking to the Hopps tonight. 

“Terribly unfortunate that the young pred cubs are feeling so… untoward due to myself,” Robert murmured to Bonnie and Stu later that evening after dropping Judy off. He sipped from the tod-sized teacup pensively. “I had forgotten that this is not the Olde World. That those who are not basically family are not welcome to overtures of such a nature with express and explicit permissions.” 

Bonnie wiggled her nose as Stu stuffed his mouth with butter cookies, her violet eyes so like little Judith’s. Fierce. Strong. Absolutely unflinching. Robert was glad he wasn’t on the wrong end of that look this time. He thought it had been terrifying when he first brought his little bunny home… oh, how wrong he was. Bonnie was definitely of the Skippy line. 

“I shall speak with their parents tomorrow,” she stated even as she took another sip of her own tea, the cup matching the tod’s in pattern if not size. Stu choked on his cookies, chugging from the tall glass that also matched their tea service. Madame Bonnie was a prepared doe. “I will not have my daughter harassed because she allows you the gift of scenting her — oh, don’t give me that, I know what you’re doing, it’s sweet, really — and those cubs shall understand or be asked to leave her be.” 

That glint in her eyes had both Stu and Robert leaning back. Bonnie had the look of a very protective mother on the verge of a warpath. They were sensible males and knew that getting in the doe’s way was a quick ticket to getting their pelts tacked to her front door. Sharing a look, the two made sure that they were in agreement in going with the doe more as a united front than as the muscle because Madame Bonnie was a force of nature all by herself. That and they might need to make sure the doe didn’t take out a parent pred. 

By doing so, Robert decided to stay the night. He had plenty of leftover clothing from some of the more… adventurous kits having soiled them. Usually with food. He even kept a brush and Stu and he had fumbled their way into installing a shower tall enough for him due to how often he ended up matted with food and, just the once, paint. That meant, upon the morning, he smelled more like the couple and especially little Judith as she hung from his neck, face tucked into his ruff that was starting to thicken due to the fall weather coming to the land, than he did a lonely widower fox. 

In the Olde World, it wasn’t unheard of for communities to get close, often having a tod or vixen take interest in prey families as a protector. It wasn’t unusual for prey mammals to adopt a pred literally or figuratively, though it was often a source of much scorn outside the region. Robert tended to forget how closed-minded some communities were. 

For all that Bunnyburrow was generally kind, they were segregated in ways that the Olde World hadn’t been for nearly a century. 

So of course he went to a meeting Madame Bonnie had orchestrated smelling like prey after dropping off a bitty bunny that smelled like pred. The mother and father of the twins and the father of the bear cub met them at a cafe often used by the preds in the area. Robert allowed the Hopps in before him, Bonnie smiling warmly and Stu nodding in thanks as he held the door. The pred parents shifted a little when he then helped the couple to the table with ease, standing off to the side calmly. 

Bonnie, taking a moment, finally looked at the three other parents. “Hello. I am Bonnie Hopps-nee-Skippy, this is my husband Stuart Hopps, and our family friend Robert Surshot-nee-Loxley.” 

Robert let his brow go up because he hadn’t let Madame Bonnie know that. Intriguing lady. Terrifying doe. He had taken his mother’s maiden name for the duration of his stay and, until now, no one had known the younger brother of the Lord Loxley was hidden away in Bunnyburrow in a state of mourning. Well, it had been mourning until a small bunny made herself at home in his lap and his heart. 

He tried not to smile in such fond exasperation, he really did, but was well aware that he was a bit besotted with the whole Hopps warren. 

But back to the matter at hand. 

“Yesterday, little Judith came to me and confessed that she was inappropriately touched. Now, now,” the tod remarked quickly but calm. “It wasn’t painful, but she felt degraded and humiliated. They were petting her ears and holding her like a stuffed mammal. As one of the most…  _ independent  _ bunnies I have ever met, this was not well received.” 

The pred parents shifted uncomfortably. Bonnie smiled like a shark scenting blood in the water. “Mm, yes. You see, my daughter picked dear Robert as her family, not unheard of with so many bunnies in a warren. It is unusual that he is a fox, but only marginally.” Robert refrained from rolling his eyes, knowing just how  _ odd _ Judy was, a prey picking a pred. “Yet, while she picked your children to be her friends, she has not picked them as  _ family. _ A very different distinction.” 

Stu nodded and the bear father hummed thoughtfully to himself. The cat parents seemed confused, pondering this. 

“So your daughter… didn’t pick our children to be a part of their pride?” the mother asked, sipping her water. Bonnie just shrugged. 

“Not yet, if at all. They haven’t known each other long and Judy hasn’t spoken to me of picking another warren family member. Of course, she did just bring home an unknown tod when she was six.” The bunnies and said tod shared a fond eye roll with smiles on their muzzles. 

The cats were aghast, possibly at the story, possibly at their cubs. The lovely Leopard queen seemed a bit upset as she finally spoke. “Oh dear. Jabari and Kellan have not been very quiet about their prey pride mate.” 

Her husband sighed, taking her paw in his and licking the pads in comfort. “You could not have known,” he murmured, both of their accents strange but lyrical for the small country town. “They are not very… sensible about a pride after the move.” 

The two seemed distraught and Bonnie, who probably should have been afraid of such large predators, felt her heart melt a little. It was true that the couple and their children were relatively new to the area, and entirely isolated due to the high bunny population, sheep notwithstanding, but to be without the feeling of family? Of not having a full warren? Or, in this case… a pride. Bonnie put a paw to her chest, feeling her heart clench in sympathy. 

Robert nodded slowly when she looked to him, the fox giving a grim smile. Prides were a thing he knew of and this was accurate. He had never before seen such a small pride before now. And, while the warren of the Hopps was small for Bunnyburrow, they were about average for most of the Olde World warrens. Looking at the concerned feline parents he could only imagine what they were thinking. 

Could only imagine what drove them to a small prey abundant farming community. 

Bonnie, however, was all over it. Really, he shouldn’t have worried. “Oh, you poor dears! And you, Mister Fubuki, what about your son?” 

She grabbed Stu’s paw and was vigorously patting it like she would one of her young kits. The big bear took a long ponderous moment to think about it before he sighed. “Daichi is good boy, but very foolish. I will speak with him.” 

Bonnie nodded, smiling warmly. Sometimes, it just took a little effort on all parts. Still, she couldn’t just leave these poor preds out in the cold! It would be just unconscionable! And just darn un-neighborly! 

“Why don’t you all come to the family dinner this Friday? I’ll ask Judy and Robert to get some fowl and fish for you to go along with the rest of the meal.” Stu sighed but smiled at his wife. She winked at him to his delight. Robert very purposefully didn’t think about how the two were flirting. “Don’t worry about bringing anything, I’ll have plenty enough.” 

The cat parents talked a moment in their mother tongue before the wife graciously accepted. Chōza Fubuki wished them well. He would need to speak with his heavily pregnant wife before making such a serious call. 

Robert felt a moment of pride in his friends. They had been perfect. Hadn’t been afraid. He smiled to himself as he ordered a Two-Fowl burger to-go so that the waitress wouldn’t feel slighted at the loss. Her tip was quite generous. 

Friday rushed up and Judy was with Robert learning how to dress both fowl and fish. She grimaced all the way through it and refused to even start without gloves and an apron that covered from neck to ankles, but she learned. Willingly, even. He quietly took pictures and short videos to share with William and Bonnie (if she could handle such a sight, that is). 

The night before the family dinner, the two set about making a coal bed in a freshly dug pit to slowly roast the meat in. Judy was enthused even when the smell of cooking meat filled the air and caused her to wrinkle her pink nose. Robert just sighed happily because a male pred had to appreciate the soothing scent of meat cooking. This was only the beginning. 

Chicken, turkey, duck, and quail rested inside the fridge, Robert very seriously thinking about starting his own coop if only to cut back on the costs of actually getting to eat once living protein. Back at the castle, King Lionheart and his brother William had gobs of fowl in a massive sanctuary type of enclosure. Only these beasties were definitely for food. Licking his chops at the thought of having his own gobs of fowl whenever he wanted, he set out to debone and cube all the meat for pies and a hearty stew. 

All was going well until little Judy tried to  _ taste _ some of their efforts! 

“Judith Hopps! You will spit that out! Right now!” Pointing to the floor imperiously, the fox hid a grimace when the bunny kit did just that, a guilty look on her face. “Just what were you thinking! You could become ill! Be poisoned!” 

Judy scuffled her toes into the floor. “I just wanted to know what it tasted like.” 

Robert could not. Deal with this.  _ Curiosity _ . The kind that would get a baby bunny killed! Sure, rabbits could ingest a little tiny bit of meat, but definitely not very much and definitely not on the regular. Or so closely together. She had tried a bit of fish yesterday from his supper! This could  _ kill her _ … 

But she just wanted to understand. 

Paw to his face, he took a deep breath. He was a responsible adult. He could do this. (Again.) So he knelt down and he opened his arms. “Come, little bunny. We need to have a talk.” 

“Once there was a little fox kit,” Robert began softly, eyes on the vibrant violet of Judith’s as they sat in his handsome old world chair. “He was a bit older than you, with dappled fur and eyes a bright blue. And one day, he decided he wanted to try lettuce.” 

She scrunched her nose up at that, tilting her head. “What’s bad about lettuce?” 

The tod gave a shadow of a smile. “Foxes can’t eat it, Judy. Like prey mammals cannot eat the flesh of living creatures, so too do most pred mammals lack the ability to eat most leafy vegetables. We have evolved to eat many fruits and berries, but many leafy vegetables are harmful. As the fox kit found out. Gregory ate a head of lettuce from the gardens and was violently ill for a week afterwards. He had learned that it made him ill, but this little fox kit kept trying food that did not suit him. Spinach and bok choy and cabbage.” 

Rubbing a paw down her ears, he thought back to that time, to that utopian summer. 

To his wife. 

To his  _ son. _

“He kept getting sick and nothing we said stopped him from trying more things. Until one day, he fell gravely ill indeed. Turns out, he not only kept trying foods he could not handle, but that he was starving himself with a belly full of greens.” He tugged on the tip of one gray ear. “He was stubborn and foolish but I loved him very much. His mother and I sat with him and nursed him back to health.” 

The tod closed his eyes because he didn’t want to see purple instead of blue. He was too selfish for that and sometimes he just needed to remember what he had lost even if it made it harder to see the living and know neither his son nor wife survived beside him. 

“He grew well, became full of energy again. Had become healthy once more.” He paused for a shaky breath. “He was ready to take on the world. And on the first family outing in over a year…” 

Tears matted his fur to his face, tears he hadn’t even realized he was shedding. Small arms wrapped around his neck as a tiny nose wiggled and twitched against his cheek fur. 

“I watched them die when by all rights I should have been with them.” 

Silence filled the little cottage, heartache like a lead weight in the chest. He hadn’t meant to tell her this. She was just a child. But for the first time since it happened, he had been able to speak of it. Had told one of the harder memories. 

“I’m glad you didn’t die,” is muffled into his fur. “I’m sorry they died, but I’m glad you didn’t.” 

Holding Judith close, loving her so fierce and true, Robert was almost glad he hadn’t either. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Discord](https://discord.gg/4dCN72X) is my other home. I whine on there about writing and and cry about characters going off half-cocked without direction!


	4. Pissed off author

https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=ssa.reader.ofourown.archieve.archieveofourownreader

~~  
Fun stuff until that site right there ceases? I’m not gonna be posting shit. This is your friendly author’s note letting you know that if you’re paying? Then it’s not worth your time.  
  
~~

EDIT: I’ll be locking all my fics. I’m sorry for my readers who aren’t AO3 registered users, but if I’m not getting paid to write, I’m not letting anyone else profit off my literal hours of loving hard work. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Discord](https://discord.gg/4dCN72X) for all your authoring needs. Or, well, for all the hours I spend crying about writing. 
> 
> If you haven’t noticed by now, I am dealing with multiple fandoms. Like, _so many_.


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